


Flourish

by majora_no_kamen



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 08:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19943053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majora_no_kamen/pseuds/majora_no_kamen
Summary: Hisoka makes a new friend. Young Hisoka x Gon AU.





	1. Sybil × Cut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this fic months ago and it was originally planned to be multi-chapter but I've lost motivation so I'm just uploading this as a one-shot (with an extra). This fic was written for someone in mind and I don't know if they still remember but yeah here's the Young Hisoka x Gon fic I said I would write! I'm sorry it's months late!

Another kick was sent his way, knocking him back against the wall. The next attack choked the air out of his lungs. Hisoka’s vision blurred, no longer able to see his attackers with clarity. Stumbling from side to side a bit, this time a punch was directed at his face. The force slammed him onto the ground and a stinging pain covered the area, the concrete marring his skin further. A burning sensation scorched the back of his arms where it bruised.

He became a mere punching bag for them, a flurry of kicks struck him from every direction. His body collapsed and curled over the ground as he lost the ability to even remain upright without a wave of vertigo assaulting him. From his view, his arm lay on the ground, black spots and lined cuts with bits of red bulging out of them. All he could do was breathe through it—and his breaths were rasped and unstable. It lasted for a while, one hit after another, and he wasn’t sure how much time passed.

The last of the kicks rammed right onto his chest and the foot remained there, the heel digging in. He hacked out blood and the foot retracted, not wanting to get soiled. With the shuffle of shoes tapping against the ground, it wasn’t long until there was silence.

No one would come to check up on him. They picked this spot because it was a secluded area that few had knowledge of. His body ached and screamed everywhere. He coughed, spilling more drops of blood onto his already tattered shirt. With the back of his hand, he wiped his lips of the disgustingly warm texture and winced as he accidentally brushed an open cut there. Using his forearms, he pushed himself up from the ground.

Hisoka’s eyes trailed down to the view of himself in the aftermath. He was less angry at the state of his physical condition and more disgruntled at his ruined clothes. His shirt and pants had a few rips and holes stained with blood—a waste of a perfectly good pair of clothes. He’d have to find another pair to steal, maybe something more refined this time to treat himself. Exhaling an annoyed sigh, he heaved himself off the ground, ignoring the incessant whines of his feet that could barely support his own weight. Soon, the pain numbed and it was easier to disregard its presence from his mind, though it still lingered with a brief flare with each step he took forward.

He slipped into the narrow opening of an alleyway, inching across to the other side. Above him, there were hollowed curtains of wires branching off into the deep distance. Stairs were affixed to the side of the building wall, changing directions at every floor. He wondered if anyone in the apartment was observing him through their windows, though that thought soon went away. Even if there was anyone there, they'd be enjoying the sight of his battered body attempting to crawl through the area.

Trash cans, dumpsters, and discarded boxes pressed against the walls. His nose got a small whiff of something as he passed by, and he regretted not covering it. He should’ve held his breath until he was out of the alley, but it was difficult to do that in his current state. His body forced out rapid, shallow breaths and coughs with every crumbling step he took.

It reeked of death. Someone was probably decomposing in that dumpster over there, though he had no intention to check. The stench itself was a confirmation, and having gotten used to it for so long, there wasn’t any way he could mistake it for something else. And there was this faint, sickly sweet scent surrounding the area. Hisoka concluded that whoever was rotting wanted to drown in delusional pleasure before dying.

It was nothing strange. Things like this occurred all the time. People attempted to fade from the world without so much of a whimper. To get away from the awful smell, he hurried to the end where it opened up to a street.

It was not a street he recognized. Here he was, right in the middle of the city with nowhere to go. The street was quiet as cars avoided going through this route, and for good measure. The fact that there were no lights here and there was a distinctly rotten smell that could be detected from a mile away was a sign to steer clear. He needed to hurry out of this area, too, before any lurkers decided to ambush him.

He ran, whirling past dead streets as he followed the sound of traffic. Crowded areas were good. Nobody would do anything reckless in broad daylight in front of thousands of witnesses. As he dashed by several people, none of them cared for his bloodied form. They continued on their walks to their own destinations.

After a few minutes of running, he stopped at a street where there was a crowd of people surrounding a particular spot, teeming with hushed whispers and prominent applause. Hisoka’s ears perked up. It sounded like something worth his time was happening, and he didn’t have anywhere he needed to be, anyway. It was the perfect place to stop as well.

Blocked from being able to see anything by towers of bodies, he sneaked further into the crowd. His actions went unnoticed as the people’s attention were fixated on something else. Making his way through the small openings in between bodies, he reached the front where there was no one to block his view.

“Okay, for the next act, I’m gonna juggle these!” a boy called out. He was wearing a blindfold but from what Hisoka could tell, the boy couldn’t be more than a few years younger than himself.

The boy held two clubs, each on one hand. A third club was placed at his foot. With the kick of his foot, the club sprang up and the boy began juggling with the other two clubs. There were a few cheers and claps from the audience at the trick. Without missing a beat, the boy juggled them in a seamless sequence despite being blindfolded. He incorporated a few tricks as the clubs crossed each other in a basic pattern, an under leg throw here and there, and some spins. The tricks started out small; they were simple and easy to digest to anyone watching. Then they became more stimulating as more complex patterns took over, and the cheers started to pipe up.

Hisoka watched the performance with a bit of amazement, but his face remained stoic. It was strange. He’d already seen plenty of other amateur jugglers on the street. Glam Gas Land was the city of show business. Accustomed to seeing them, they became passing figures in his life he barely spared a glance towards when he walked by. Perhaps it was because the boy was younger than him that he was interested. But there was something more to it, something mesmerizing about the boy’s movements. How fluid they were, and how confident he was in his skills that he even wore a blindfold as a handicap. It was quite charming in its own way.

The boy threw a club over his head, and it was about to fall to the ground behind him. There were a few hushed cries and gasps of worry, though Hisoka knew they'd secretly derive entertainment in his failure as well. It appeared as though he’d made a mistake and the club was going to touch the ground.

It didn’t.

With the heel of his boot, the boy kicked the club back up over his head and into his hands. The crowd became ecstatic, boasting loud screams and a synchronized applause. But Hisoka couldn’t hear the crowd. Their cheers blurred under the sound of his own pulsating heart. He was focused on the boy, observing the shifts in his hands and fingers, the relaxed motions of his arms and legs, _everything_.

Another complex trick was done. More clapping and cheers. The performance was a work of art in itself, something to be marveled at. The act played out beautifully before him, and he couldn’t pull his eyes away, as if hypnosis was cast upon him.

Hisoka continued to admire from afar, ignoring the pain in his body and its desire to sit down against a wall somewhere. The show carried on as the boy did twirls while simultaneously sending the clubs up to fly in the air. It was as if the clubs submitted to his will, followed his every command. As he neared the end of his act, he threw the clubs with a stronger force than before, prolonging their flight. The clubs were thrown at an angle in which it would land behind him. In an instant, the boy did a back handspring, landing upright without so much of a stumble or tip in balance, and caught all three clubs.

A burst of approving screams rang through, and the world thundered with hundreds of unrestrained claps. The boy bowed in every direction as a form of gratitude for attending the show. Hisoka slowly recovered from his daze, a bit disappointed that it'd already come to an end so soon. He considered it worthy of his praise, and there were very few things in life that he found praiseworthy, especially in a city such as this where everyone wanted to hop on the already overflowing entertainment industry.

With his mind cleared, his focus shifted towards the hat that sat perched on the ground next to the boy. It resembled the kind that magicians usually wore, with a green ribbon wrapped around it. The audience swarmed to drop their money off in it as payment for the show.

Then a terrible thought came upon Hisoka, and he walked towards the hat. Despite the amazing show he was given, he was not about to let the chance pass by him when it was right in front of him, begging for him to take it. He had no justification for the action aside from a rather cruel one.

Let it serve as a lesson to the boy so as to not leave his belongings unguarded.

Hisoka’s shoe touched the edge of the hat. Glancing sideways, the boy was still preoccupied with the blindfold on. Those who wanted to spare a few Jenny had already done so and left the area. With no one to watch his cruel deed, his shifty hand swiped the change out of the hat, careful in avoiding making any noise. He was silent, having mastered this art through countless encounters, and this one was no different. By the time the boy noticed, Hisoka would already be gone, blended in with the darkness of the city.

Things always went as he planned.

But not this time.

The boy whirled around, lifting his blindfold to reveal one eye and almost catching Hisoka in the midst of it all. Silence. Time crawled to a standstill between them.

Hisoka’s mind was preoccupied with processing what just happened. His shoes shouldn’t have even made a sound. How did the boy hear him from behind?

“Hiya, ♥️” was all he managed to say, eventually. He relaxed his shoulders, attempting to display a casual demeanor. The money was already safe inside his pockets and he kept his hands tucked in them. There was nothing to worry about.

The boy blinked at him with a still expression, and Hisoka wondered if he’d been caught, before it turned into that of shock. He fully removed his blindfold. “What happened to you?! Are you okay?!” His voice was loud enough to be regarded as an outburst but the people around paid them no mind. The crowd had already dissipated, dwindling in numbers as everyone left to carry on with their lives.

The reaction came unexpected to Hisoka, like everything else that had just happened, but he’d always been good at improvising. “I’m fine. ♦️” Putting up a smile, he waved a carefree hand and hoped that the boy would let him be on his way.

“No, you’re not! Look, you’re still bleeding over here!” The boy seized Hisoka’s arm, turning it over to reveal the open wound. He gasped at the sight. “Crap, we gotta disinfect this fast!”

“No, I—”

Hisoka was cut off. “Hurry! Come with me!” The boy grabbed Hisoka and tugged at him. With his other hand, he placed the hat over his head and it miraculously stayed in place despite his spiky hair. He stored the clubs in his backpack, zipping it up and swinging it over one shoulder. It was all done within a few seconds, and the next thing Hisoka knew, he was being pulled forward.

They were running somewhere, though Hisoka didn’t know their destination. All he heard was the chattering buzz of the people around him and the boy’s boots hitting the concrete. Cars honked in the distance. His surroundings blurred and all he could see was the boy in front of him, his yellow backpack bumping up and down through the motions. The boy dashed at a fast pace but Hisoka was able to keep up, not exerting too much strength. Despite the sharp pain reverberating through his body, he disregarded it and forced himself to move.

Instead, his mind was entirely focused on a different topic: Why was the boy so concerned about his condition? Countless logical explanations popped up in his head, but none of them really made _sense_ , and it gnawed at the back of his mind.

As they continued running through the mazes of streets, there was less and less traffic, and almost all signs of human activity eventually disappeared. It became quiet enough for him to hear his own breathing.

The boy stopped, and Hisoka almost bumped into him. They were in front of an abandoned apartment that looked near uninhabitable and definitely hadn't gotten a health inspection in a while. Taking out a pair of keys that made a soft jingle as they dangled, the boy inserted it into the lock and slowly turned it. The lock made a screeching groan, both looking and sounding ready to break under the pressure.

“Don’t worry! It’s strong even though it’s old,” the boy reassured. Pushing the door open—and even that sounded like it was on the verge of death—he retracted the keys from the slot and made a gesture for Hisoka to enter.

“Where are we? ♠️” Hisoka stayed at the doorstep, not budging an inch as his eyes roamed up and down the building. He was wary of this location, of course, but he wouldn’t show it.

“My apartment. It’s on the fourth floor.” The boy dragged him inside, seeing as he hadn’t made any progress in entering. “C’mon, we’ve gotta hurry and patch you up!”

The interior of the building was small, and there wasn’t much room for standing as most of it was preoccupied by a set of concrete stairs. Hisoka couldn’t get a good look of the details as he was dragged up. They reached the second floor.

“Does anybody else live here? ♦️” Hisoka asked out of curiosity. His voice echoed throughout the building.

“Nope, just me!” The boy sounded happy despite the words he just spoke.

What he was saying seemed to be true. Hisoka couldn’t hear anything beyond the other doors in the building, and he was sure that the walls were pitifully thin. The apartment was old and stale, with accumulated dust and cobwebs in the corners and on the windows. They went up the narrow stairs and stopped when the number said _4_ , though half of it was missing from being worn away. Hisoka spotted a sole spider that had made the window its home, resting against a web. It wasn’t hard to miss considering how the bold black contrasted against the gray walls.

He’d been staring at it a bit too long, because the boy spoke up behind him. “Ah, don’t worry. It’s harmless.” That wasn’t really the question that had been occupying Hisoka’s mind, but it was nice to know regardless.

There were only two doors, one on both sides across from each other, and the boy guided him to the one on the left. Taking out his keys, he unlocked the door and pulled Hisoka inside with him. After closing the door with a definite click, he dropped his backpack to the floor and ushered Hisoka into the bathroom.

The bathroom was small and the two of them barely fit as they sat down on the floor. There were cracks in the floor tiles, and the wall paint was scraped in some areas, revealing a bit of beige behind the white color.

The boy retrieved a cloth and lifted Hisoka’s arm up, gesturing for him to remain in that position. “Keep it here, I need to stop the blood.” With the cloth, he wrapped it around the bleeding gash and secured a knot. It wasn’t too tight, nor was it too loose.

When the boy was done, Hisoka moved his arm a bit just to get a feel before lowering it. Already, the cloth had smudges of red peeking out from where the cut was.

“Here, look up,” the boy said. He tilted Hisoka’s chin up so they looked at each other. Then he leaned forward, leaving almost no distance between them.

Hisoka stilled while the boy examined the cuts on his face. There were two prominent cuts, one on each cheek. While the boy was preoccupied with inspecting his injuries, Hisoka studied him.

The boy was definitely younger than him judging by his face and their height difference. Hisoka had to be several inches taller than him, though the boy had hair that spiked up for some inexplicable reason. It was tall enough to almost cover their height difference.

The boy pulled back and heaved a sigh of relief. “They don’t look like they’re that deep, which means they won’t scar.” Grabbing two cloths, he gently pressed one against Hisoka’s cheek. He offered the second cloth to Hisoka to hold against the other cut for himself. Hisoka accepted the cloth and applied pressure to the cut. It was something he’d done plenty of times before so he knew how hard he needed to press.

There was only silence, and the tension in the atmosphere welled up. All they were doing was waiting for the blood to stop.

“Oh!" The boy blinked, tilting his nose up. "I’m Gon Freecs by the way! Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier! I was super worried about your injuries that I forgot!” He smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. “What’s your name?”

Hisoka glanced away, finding something else in the bathroom to direct his focus on. “...Hisoka,” he murmured. His voice had been quieter than usual, and it even sounded muffled to himself, but Gon was able to hear him just fine. It might’ve been because they were so close to each other, or because Gon had sharp ears, or a mix of both. He still found it hard to believe that Gon had heard him when he picked up the money from his hat.

“Hi—so—ka,” Gon repeated, as if to test the syllables out, and Hisoka liked how his name sounded with Gon’s voice. Then Gon gave a toothy grin. “That’s such a weird name!”

Hisoka’s shoulders relaxed as he smirked at the irony. “Yours is strange as well, _Gon_. ♥️” The name rolled off his tongue just right.

Gon let out an embarrassed laugh in agreement. “I don’t think my dad’s very good at names.”

Hisoka raised a brow at the mention of Gon’s father. “Oh? You said you lived alone. ♣️”

“I do. My dad left me here a long time ago.”

“Hmm. Where’d he go? ♦️”

“I don’t know.” Gon gave a nonchalant shrug. He didn’t seem to be bothered much by his father’s absence. “What about you?” He shifted closer to Hisoka.

“I don’t know either, ♠️” Hisoka admitted. It’d been a while since he last saw his mother. He couldn’t even recall how she looked or sounded anymore because he didn’t care that much to remember. There was no face conjured. They had separated, and that was the end of it.

Gon smiled at the mutuality in their circumstances. It was something to relate over at least. “So we’re the same!” Despite the dreary topic, Gon’s optimism shone through and found a way to put it in a positive spin.

“It would seem so, ♣️” Hisoka said. They stopped the conversation there, knowing that pursuing it further would be useless. Gon didn’t poke his nose into Hisoka’s business, and neither did Hisoka in return. It was an understanding they didn’t have to convey verbally.

While Hisoka’s eyes roamed around the bathroom, he noted how well kept it was despite the poor condition of the building itself. There were towels lined on the shelves, though they all had holes and rips in them. The counter didn’t have many products; only a cup, toothbrush, and toothpaste from what he could see. Then his eyes landed on Gon, who he knew had been staring at him the past few minutes. When their eyes made contact, Gon’s lips formed a smile, though he didn’t say anything.

“Do you do this often? ♦️” Hisoka asked, finally breaking the silence. There wasn’t much else he could do while waiting, and it was obvious Gon was itching to talk to him.

Gon blinked. “Do what?”

_Accept strangers into your apartment and help them_ , Hisoka wanted to say, but he settled for something else instead, finding the topic too brash. He gestured to the tied cloth on his arm.

Gon made a noise of affirmation and nodded eagerly. “I used to get a lot of cuts myself when I was younger.”

Hisoka hummed. Gon was just like him, then.

He then told Gon some riddles to pass the time, and Hisoka found himself wanting to tease him for all the ridiculous answers he’d come up with.

Time flew by quickly, though Hisoka found the reason for it to be that he enjoyed conversing with Gon. Gon was… strange. He’d done many intriguing things that Hisoka found difficult to comprehend, like unfitting pieces of a puzzle, and yet Hisoka wanted to know more. He wanted to know just what it was that he found so perplexing about Gon.

“Why are you helping me? ♠️” Hisoka finally asked, having no more riddles left to say.

“Do I need a reason to help someone?” he countered. Gon was a bright kid, but perhaps _too_ bright.

Hisoka’s mind searched for an answer. There really _was_ no reason for Gon to help him. In fact, it'd only end badly for Gon if he did help. Didn’t he know? Hisoka could sell him out to the police, all because witnesses agreed that Gon made physical contact with him. He didn’t need to say who the real perpetrators were. All he needed to do was pin the blame on Gon, and Gon would be paying his hospital bills.

That was how things worked around here.

And yet the more he thought about it, the more he slipped into the nonsense. “No,” Hisoka eventually decided. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I suppose you don’t. ♣️”

The only response he received was a warm smile.

Hisoka’s eyes lingered on it. _Cute._ ♥️

“I think the bleeding stopped,” Gon said, removing the cloth from Hisoka’s cheek. Hisoka did the same, and Gon checked to make sure. “Yup! It’s stopped! Now we just gotta clean this.” He stood up to the sink, gesturing for Hisoka to stand up as well, and turned the sink on.

The faucet took a few seconds before actually turning on, and a gush of water poured out. It seemed like it did this every time because Gon expected it and quickly twisted it so that only a moderate amount flowed. He washed his hands first before untying the knotted cloth around Hisoka’s arm. Seeing that the blood had stopped, he guided it under running water. The water was cold and Hisoka slightly recoiled upon contact, but he soon became numb to it.

“Sorry,” Gon frowned, “there’s no hot or warm water.”

“It’s fine. ♣️” It hadn’t bothered him that much. He never had the luxury of washing himself in anything less than near freezing water, and he’d already experienced enough winters living on the streets to get used to the temperature. His senses had gotten dull to the cold, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t uncomfortable. It only meant he could push through and bear with it.

While running the wound under the water, Gon examined it for any debris. The flowing water washed most of it off and Gon grabbed a towel, making light presses it against the cut so as to not irritate it while he dried it. Hisoka was fully capable of doing it himself, but Gon was pushy about doing it for him. Then Gon instructed him to wash his face.

Hisoka did as he was told. He ran the water over his cheeks, careful not to touch it much and just let the splashes of water do most of the work. When he felt satisfied that it was clean, he raised his face from the sink. Gon was already there, patting his cheeks with the towel to dry them as well.

Removing the towel, Gon tossed it to the side as he grabbed Hisoka’s arm. “Here, follow me.” Opening the door, he led him out of the bathroom and into the living room.

Despite calling it the living room, it seemed to encompass the kitchen—if it was possible to even call it one—and bedroom as well. There was only a small stove and fridge shoved next to each other in the corner. Gon guided Hisoka to the bed and ushered him to sit down. It wasn’t a typical bed, it was more of a mattress laid on the floor with a blanket and pillow. There was almost no cushion packed inside the mattress, and it felt flat as a rock when he sat down on it. Hisoka let his legs sprawl out over the floor, unsure of where else to put them.

“Stay here, I’ll go get some stuff to disinfect your cuts,” Gon said, taking a few steps forward. He turned back. “Um, feel free to make yourself at home!”

Hisoka smiled at the hospitality. “It looks homely. ♥️”

“Ah, do you think so?” Gon turned to take a sweep of the apartment himself. “I tried decorating it with what I could do.”

“I can tell. It suits the owner. ♦️”

Gon laughed sheepishly. “Thanks!” He continued over to the cabinet, opening it to search for the bandages.

Hisoka decided to busy himself with observing the unfamiliar room he was in, taking in his surroundings. The walls were white, though they weren't in pristine condition. Similar to the bathroom, there were more marks and scraped paint here. The only window in the room was a bit cracked but still functional, and beyond that he could see a small balcony lined with plants. The leaves were still a lush and vibrant green, a stark contrast to the rest of the white room. In the middle of the room was a small table with a cup set on top of it.

There was some rustling before Gon rushed over to his side. Gon sat down on the makeshift bed next to him and placed the materials on the floor. “Alright, let me see your arm.”

Hisoka lifted his arm up. A line of red ran down his pale skin. He didn’t mind the sight of it, knowing it'd heal. Gon held a cotton ball in one hand and twisted the bottle cap. The cap came off and he pressed the cotton ball against the opening, tilting the bottle to the side so the liquid would move.

“This might hurt a little,” Gon said. It was the only warning he gave as he gently dabbed the cotton ball on Hisoka’s arm, following the mark of the wound.

Hisoka pretended to wince, contorting his face into that of discomfort. He made his voice sound pained. “Ah, that hurts. Please be more gentle. ♦️”

“Sorry!” Gon retracted the cotton ball. Concern took over his voice and expression. “Are you okay?”

Hisoka chuckled at the caring behavior. “Just kidding. ♥️” He smiled to prove his point, leaning back as he used his other arm for support. “It doesn’t hurt that much. ♠️”

“Wha—you tricked me!” Gon pouted, his cheeks puffing a little. He dabbed the wound with the cotton ball again, unconsciously putting in more force this time after getting riled up.

Hisoka’s eyes shifted up to meet Gon’s face. “Now you really _are_ doing it too harshly, ♣️” he sing-songed. It stung, though he didn’t actually feel that much pain. He’d gotten used to tolerating pain over his lifetime, and it was easy to dismiss its presence.

Gon frowned. “Sorry.” He adjusted his pressure so it was lighter. “Is this better?”

“Mm, it’s fine. Much better. ♥️” Really, he just enjoyed teasing Gon. It was entertaining to see all the reactions he produced.

Gon nodded as he finished. “I’ll disinfect the ones on your face now.”

There was silence between them as Gon worked intently on cleaning the cut.

Gon applied the alcohol onto another cotton ball. Hisoka let himself be pampered, enjoying the tender care he’d received. His eyes trailed over to Gon, who was busy focusing on cleaning the cut on his cheek. Gon’s brows were furrowed, lips slightly parted. Since these cuts were smaller, the process only lasted a few seconds. Finished with his work, Gon rose to dispose of the cotton balls and then came to sit down in his previous spot.

This time, he grabbed the gauze roll by his side and pulled to extend it out. Hisoka held his arm out for Gon, already knowing what Gon was intending to do. Gon wrapped the gauze around the wound, taking extra care in the process. Slowly, it swirled its way down Hisoka’s arm, and when it completely covered the extent of the gash, Gon taped it off.

Setting aside the bandage roll, Gon’s hands darted for the gauze pads this time. Covering the cuts over Hisoka’s cheeks, he lightly pressed them, taping the sides to ensure it’d stay.

“Do you have any cuts anywhere else?” Gon asked, finished with the taping.

“I don't. ♠️”

Gon’s eyes scanned over Hisoka’s body in approval. He appeared lost in thought for a moment before perking up. “Ah, wait, I just remembered! I think I have something for your bruises. Lemme go look for it.” He strode over to the cabinet where the medical supplies were located and rummaged through it, searching for something. “It should be here… oh, got it!” he called out, lifting the object up triumphantly. Making his way over back to Hisoka, he allowed him to get a closer look at it.

It was a small container, though the label had corroded over time and there were cracks all over the old sticker. Gon twisted the cap off, revealing some white cream. “I’ll just put some over your bruises,” Gon said. With his fingers, he took a dollop of cream. “Can you take your shirt off?”

“Sure. ♣️” Hisoka lifted the shirt off with ease. Now that he’d gotten a better look at it off his body, it really was ruined. There were stains of blood and dirt stuck to the fabric. He wouldn’t be able to wear it again.

Gon dabbed cream over one of Hisoka's bruises. “Does it hurt?”

Hisoka knew it was more of a question to gauge his level of discomfort so Gon could adjust his pressure, but he was intent on teasing Gon. “It won’t if you don’t touch it, ♠️” he stated so matter-of-factly.

Gon pouted. “Trust me, this stuff works so just bear with it. It’ll make your bruises go away in no time!” He continued applying the cream over the numerous bruises over Hisoka’s body. The soft fingers were gentle, never lingering on his skin for too long. They brushed over the bruises, though it tickled more than hurt. Hisoka counted the black spots as he saw them while waiting for Gon to finish. He’d sustained a lot of injuries this time, more so than usual.

Gon finished applying the cream over the large bruise on Hisoka’s chest, moving to sit behind him on the bed. He worked on the ones on his back next, and Hisoka resisted the urge to squirm under the tingles. It felt like there were flutters stuck there. He didn’t like it.

And suddenly, Hisoka realized how vulnerable he really was.

There was a small desire to grab his discarded shirt and hide in its ruined comfort. Hisoka pursed his lips. It wasn’t the chill of the room that nearly made him shiver, but the light fingers that ghosted over his skin. They smoothed down his back, slathering the cream in their trail. The extent of the bruise was large and would definitely take the longest out of all to recover. Gon's fingers moved painstakingly slow, and Hisoka traced their movements in his mind. It was a peculiar feeling.

“You have more bruises on your legs, don’t you?” Gon asked.

Hisoka hummed. "You’re sharp. ♦️” Rolling his pants up to above his knees, he revealed a few purple spots, though they weren’t as severe as the ones on his upper body.

Gon smiled at the terse compliment. He coated those bruises with the cream within seconds. After he finished, he exhaled a content sigh. “Done!” He returned the lid over the container and sealed it. Looking down, the sight of the mess he'd made finally set in. “Oops! I’ll clean this up fast," he said, gathering as many supplies as he could.

“Would you like some help? ♣️” Hisoka offered.

Gon nodded happily. “Yeah, thanks!”

Hisoka collected the remaining supplies that Gon couldn’t carry and stood up with him. Moving across the room, it became all the more apparent just how small it really was. Stopping at the shelves and cabinets, Gon instructed Hisoka on where to leave the supplies.

“That goes in that cabinet down there.” Gon gestured with his head, his hands occupied with placing things back on the shelf above.

Hisoka crouched down to the cabinet. He pulled on the handle.

What he didn’t expect was the door to fall apart, separating from the cabinet itself.

Hisoka was unsure of what to do with the broken furniture piece. “Oh my,” he said dryly, awkwardly waving the dejected object in his hand as Gon turned to him. “Unfortunately, it appears that I’ve broken your cabinet, ♠️” he muttered in disbelief. He hadn’t even pulled that hard.

“No, no, it’s okay!” Gon reassured, waving his hands. “Actually, it was already broken. The bolts fell apart a long time ago.” Gon smiled. “It’s not your fault, so don’t worry! I should have told you earlier.”

“Ah,” Hisoka chuckled, still a little perplexed, “that explains it. ♣️”

“Just put them there.” Gon pointed.

Hisoka placed the gauze and the cream inside. There were various other objects inside that had been messily shoved inside from when Gon had been digging through it.

Gon crouched down as well, finished with assembling the shelf. “So, all you gotta do is put it like this,” he guided Hisoka’s hand to place the door back against the cabinet, “then you tilt it this way and… there! It looks good as new!” Gon winked. Then he added with a whisper, “By the way, both doors are broken. Just in case you thought the other one worked.”

It was true that Hisoka couldn’t even tell that the cabinet door could be pulled apart from the way it was placed. “...I’ll keep that in mind. ♠️”

With the supplies returned to their original location, Gon ushered Hisoka to sit on the bed and relax. “Hey,” he nudged Hisoka, “that was your first time at my show, right?”

Hisoka’s brows raised. “How did you know? ♣️”

Gon scratched the back of his head. “I remember the face of everyone who’s ever come to my show.”

Interesting. The complete opposite of Hisoka. “Do you perform for a living? ♦️”

Gon shifted into a more comfortable position, sitting with his legs crossed. “Yeah, it’s not much. I get enough Jenny a day to manage, though.” He picked up the hat, the one that he’d been wearing earlier, off the table.

“Ah, well,” Gon gave a sheepish chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I guess people didn’t really like the show today.”

And there was a small _pang_ in Hisoka’s chest. He couldn’t figure out the reason why.

“Maybe they didn’t really like the blindfold idea,” Gon pondered with a pout, tracing the outline of the hat with his fingertips. “Today’s show was my first time using that.”

No, they loved it. Including himself. But he just couldn’t get any words out of his mouth. They were like blocks lodged in his throat.

“What do you think?” Gon asked, finally turning to face him. “Should I keep using it?”

Hisoka’s breathing stilled. He didn’t know what to think. So he settled for something else.

“Would you like to see a magic trick? ♦️”

“Eh?” Gon blinked at him at the sudden shift in topic but disregarded it, his curiosity taking over. “Sure!”

Taking the hat from Gon, he tilted it over to show the underside to him. “There’s nothing inside, right? ♠️” He grasped Gon’s hand, which was warm and sweaty after doing all that bandaging, and guided it to the interior of the hat. Gon nodded, eyes still wide as he was excited for the trick.

Hisoka took the hat and stepped back. He threw the hat up and it spun in the air. Gon stared at the hat with anticipation. Catching the tip of the hat with his hand, Hisoka held it upside-down towards Gon.

“Go on, check what’s inside, ♥️” he cooed, his lips curling into a smile.

Gon dug his hand into the hat with impatience, itching to see what was inside. “Oh, this is—” he pulled out the flimsy paper material and metal coins, “money!” His eyes sparkled. “How’d you do that?”

Hisoka brought a finger up to his lips. “A magician must never reveal his secrets. ♥️”

Gon showered him in praise. “Wow! That was really cool! You can make money appear out of nowhere? You could be rich!”

“Maybe,” Hisoka said, feeling a bit warm from the compliments, “but that money was originally yours. ♦️ Keep it and watch over it more carefully next time. ♣️” He raised his hand to give a pat on Gon’s head, ruffling his hair slightly. It was really soft despite the spiky appearance.

“Huh?” Gon blinked. “It’s mine?”

Hisoka pondered whether he should lie or be truthful. Gon seemed to be the type of gullible child that would fall for any lie he said, without question. If he lied, then Gon wouldn’t pursue the topic further. But… if he told the truth, Gon would probably get angry at him and kick him out of the apartment at this very moment. And _that_ would be an interesting sight in itself to see. He wondered what Gon would look like when angered. So far, Gon was all smiles and grins, but surely there must be some deeper, darker emotions underneath that facade.

He decided to tell the truth because that option seemed more fun. “Indeed. I stole it from you. ♥️” A ball of mischief grew inside him as he was eager to see Gon’s reaction.

“Eh? Really?” Gon asked with such childlike innocence.

Hisoka stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds before a small chuckle escaped from his lips. This was even more fun than he’d anticipated. “That’s your response? You aren’t upset with me? ♦️”

Gon cocked his head to the side, not quite understanding what Hisoka was chuckling about. “Why would I be? You showed me a super cool magic trick!”

“Gon,” he sing-songed, moving closer towards him, “do you know what stealing means? ♥️”

“Umm, yeah?”

“And you’re aware that stealing is bad, right? ♠️”

Gon’s brows furrowed as he nodded. “Of course!”

“That means I did a bad thing to you. Do you understand now? ♦️”

Gon nodded again without a change in demeanor, still as bright and innocent as before. “I know.”

“Shouldn’t you be angry with me? ♣️” Hisoka asked, testing him.

Gon shook his head. “But you took that money because you were hurt and needed help, right?”

“Hmm.” The closed rumble of his voice echoed in the room. That was a plausible conclusion to come to. “And what if I didn’t? What if I used the money to buy drugs? ♠️”

Gon’s eyes turned serious. “You wouldn’t do that.” His voice was firm, unwavering.

Gon wasn’t _that_ ignorant, it seemed. Hisoka was half-expecting him to ask, _“What are drugs?”_ —though that would’ve been an entertaining scenario as well. He smiled. Taking the paper money from Gon’s hand, he waved it between their faces, and a soft flapping permeated the air. “How would you know for sure? ♦️”

Gon made no verbal response. Instead, he leaned in closer to Hisoka. The tip of Gon’s nose made tiny twitches as he sniffed him. Hisoka’s eyes widened a bit, confused and unused to the action. Then Gon pulled away, and Hisoka was almost disappointed. A small tug in the back of his mind wished it had lasted a little longer.

“I can tell by your scent. You don’t smell like someone who does those things,” Gon stated with such absolute determination.

And for the first time in forever, Hisoka laughed. His voice filled the room. It sounded so foreign and it was hard to believe it was really of his own. By his scent? He’d never heard that one before. “Then tell me,” he said between his laughs, “what exactly do I smell like? ♣️”

“Mm,” Gon closed in on him again, taking another whiff. He appeared lost in thought, trying to find what it was before finally settling to say, “Like… lemon.”

So he smelled sour? Hisoka chuckled at that thought. “You’re an amusing person. ♥️” Truly, he’d never met anyone like Gon before.

Gon smiled. “And I think you’re really interesting!”

Hisoka tilted his head to the side with a smirk. “That makes two of us. ♥️” He let himself fall backwards onto the bed, and looked up at the ceiling.

Gon peered over him, obstructing his view. “Hey, Hisoka?”

“Hmm? ♦️”

“You should stay here.”

Hisoka smirked. “Oh my, aren’t you afraid that I’ll do something to you? You shouldn’t trust strangers so easily. ♠️” He wagged a finger at Gon, as if to scold him.

Gon’s brows furrowed in protest. “But we’re not strangers! We’re friends!”

Friends? Was that really what they were? They’d barely known each other for a few hours, and there was nothing trustworthy about himself to consider having a friendship with.

“You don’t know me, Gon. ♣️” The words came out harsher than he’d intended them to despite his lighthearted tone, but perhaps it was because of how true the statement was. Gon _didn’t_ know anything about him.

“I know your name, and you know mine. And we don’t hate each other, so why can’t we be friends?”

Amused, he emitted a soft yet provoking hum. Gon had such a straightforward way of thinking that he found himself gravitating towards. Hisoka propped his forearms on the bed and lifted himself up so their faces were barely a few inches apart. “I could steal everything in this room while you’re sleeping and leave, ♠️” he murmured as his smile grew. “Or I could do this.”

In an instant, Hisoka pinned Gon to the bed, hovering over him. A card was placed at Gon’s neck and he slid it across. Of course, it was plastic and did no physical harm, but the psychological effect was there.

Gon’s eyes remained firm, never looking away from his, and a rush of excitement ran through Hisoka’s blood. “You don’t have a reason to,” he said.

“I don’t _need_ one.”

They stayed in this position, maintaining eye-contact. Hisoka’s playful smile remained as he tossed the card off the bed, and there was a soft sound as it hit something on its descent. His hands were now placed next to Gon’s head on both sides, trapping him underneath. They indulged in each other’s unmoving gazes. Only silence remained.

Gon was the first to break the silence, his fiery eyes still challenging Hisoka, never tearing away. Hisoka found those eyes to be beautiful.

“Fine. We don’t have to be friends. But,” he paused as he grabbed Hisoka by the shoulders, “you’re staying here until your injuries are fully healed!” Much to Hisoka’s amusement, Gon pulled him down onto the bed with him so they lay side-by-side.

Hisoka let out a lighthearted chuckle as he rested his head against the mattress. His bangs tilted to the side, small strands poking out. “You don’t have to be so serious. ♦️” He lightly pinched Gon’s cheek between his fingers. “I was merely joking. You pass. ♥️”

“Hey!” Gon reached up to caress his cheek as Hisoka’s hand pulled away. “Pass what?”

Letting himself fully relax against the bed, Hisoka closed his eyes and smiled. “I’ll be your friend. ♥️”


	2. Charlier × Cut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the start of the second chapter but I like this scene too much to throw away, so I'm putting it up as an extra.

Hisoka was only interested in fun things. He didn’t care for boring things. They weren’t worth his time. And he knew all things would eventually become boring to him and come to an end, too. When he’d figured out all he wanted out of Gon, he'd take his leave. He wasn't interested in broken toys. He'd search for something new to pique his interest. And the cycle would repeat.

But for now, he was still interested in Gon. So he stayed in this apartment, living together with him.

“You have to stay in bed!” Gon argued. “You’re still healing from your injuries.”

“But it’s so boring here,” Hisoka said, bordering on a whiny voice. “Take me with you. ♥️”

“Nope! Not until you’re fully recovered.”

He pretended to sulk. “I’ll be lonely without you. ♠️”

Gon made a pouty sound. “Fine, I’ll come home earlier today, okay?”

Hisoka perked up. “Do you promise? ♦️”

“Yeah!” Gon nodded vehemently. “I’ll swear on it too!” He grabbed Hisoka’s pinky and connected it with his. After singing a small chant, something about a thousand needles, he pressed their thumbs together. “Chuuu!”

Gon always did things that surprised him, and this one was no different. Hisoka’s lips curled into his usual smirk. “That was really cute. ♥️” Their hands separated and Hisoka twiddled his thumbs, feeling at peace for some reason.

“Someone taught me that but I don’t remember who,” Gon paused and then smiled, “I just like doing it.”

“I like it as well. ♥️ We should do it more often. ♣️”

Gon’s brows furrowed as he thought about it, resting his chin on his hand. “Then we should make lots of promises.”

Hisoka hummed. “That’s not a bad idea. ♦️”

Gon stood up from the bed, stretching his arms out. “Ah, I have to get ready now!” Then he did some light stretches with his legs. Hisoka was slightly entertained by the act. “I promise I’ll be back soon!”

Hisoka nodded, pushing away the tinge of longing he felt in his chest. “See you soon. ♥️”

~♥️♣️♦️♠️~

Hisoka found himself mostly laying in bed, bored with nothing to do. After Gon had left, he decided to play with his cards and practice some shuffling. The apartment was dim as it was cloudy and the sun was obscured from view. After playing around with his cards, which only cured one percent of his boredom, he decided to sleep until Gon came back.

When he opened his eyes after his nap, he checked the clock hanging on the wall. He’d been out for two hours and Gon still wasn’t back. Getting out of bed, he walked over to the center of the room where a small round table was situated. This was where he and Gon usually ate. It was cluttered with scraps of paper and leftover wrappers from their last meal. Pushing them to the side, he sat in a chair and took out his cards.

It was awfully boring, and Hisoka itched to do something. He set a card flat on the table and then followed up with two more, forming a standing triangle. Then he replicated a second triangle right next to it and connected the two points with a flat card acting as the bridge.

Time passed as he expanded the length of his base to five triangles. He was working on the second level now, needing to construct four triangles. Skillfully placing a card, he completed the one in the middle.

Hisoka’s ears perked up as he heard familiar footsteps coming up the stairs from outside the apartment. There was a clicking sound and the door unlocked, revealing Gon.

“Hey! I’m home!” Gon called out, waving an outstretched hand in the air. He closed the door behind him.

Hisoka smiled, finding himself relieved of his boredom just by the sound of that voice. “Welcome home. ♥️”

“Oh! What’s that?” Gon dropped his backpack near the door, moseying over to his side within seconds. “That looks so cool!”

“It’s a house of cards. It requires a lot of patience. ♣️”

“Can I try it?” Gon pulled a chair over to sit down next to him.

“Hmm?” Hisoka gave a sideways glance as he propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand. “I don’t think you’d be very good at it. ♠️”

“What?” Gon’s voice rose in defiance. “What makes you think that?”

Hisoka inwardly snickered. It was way too easy to rile him up. “Like I said, it requires a lot of patience, ♣️” he said in a dismissive tone, as if to shoo Gon away.

Gon exhaled an annoyed huff. “Nuh uh! Gimme that!” He snatched the card out of Hisoka’s hand.

Hisoka hid a smirk behind his curled fingers. He wasn't holding onto it that tightly, anyway. “Go ahead and try. ♥️”

“I’ll show you!” Gon directed his attention to the half-completed card tower, intent on placing the next card.

Suddenly, the card tower collapsed and the flimsy cards dropped to the table, some of them pushed over the edge and onto the floor. Gon looked up with a glare.

“Oops, ♦️” Hisoka said with a smile. “My bad. ♠️”

“That was on purpose just now!”

Hisoka feigned innocence. “What do you mean? ♣️”

“I _know_ you pushed it!”

“Ah, sorry. I was simply stretching after staying in this chair for so long. ♦️” He wasn’t sorry at all. And to emphasize his point, he stretched his arms out. _After_ already knocking the cards down, that was.

Gon huffed, reluctantly accepting the less-than-reasonable excuse. “Whatever, I can make my own from the start anyway! I don’t need your help!”

Hisoka chuckled, leaning forward in his chair, eager to watch Gon’s efforts. “I admire your determination. ♥️”

“I won’t forgive you just cause you complimented me.” Gon stuck his tongue out.

“I know. ♦️”

~♥️♣️♦️♠️~

“You’re shaking. ♠️”

“Shut up!”

Hisoka pointed at one of the sloppily placed cards, and Gon nearly had a heart attack at how close he was to knocking it down. “You should line the cards up at a sixty degree angle, ♣️” he advised.

“Oh,” Gon adjusted them, “like this?”

Hisoka tried his hardest to stifle a laugh. “Uh, Gon?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s ninety degrees. ♦️”

Gon narrowed his eyes. “I knew that.”

“I’m sure you did. ♣️”

Gon readjusted the cards. “There!”

Hisoka stared at it. It was a thirty degree angle. “...You’re really terrible at geometry, aren’t you? ♠️” he asked in slight awe. He didn’t know whether to be entertained or saddened by the sight.

Gon bit the inside of his cheek, miffed. “Leave me alone!”

Hisoka smirked. “I don’t want to. ♥️”

Gon continued to glare at him.

Hisoka corrected the card that Gon had placed, ignoring the threatening signals sent his way. “This is a sixty degree angle. ♣️”

Gon observed it for a few seconds. “Thanks…” he mumbled.

“You’re welcome. ♦️”

Gon continued working on the card tower. He was pretty bad at it at first and couldn’t even get past the base.

But he trudged through, because that was a very Gon-like thing to do.

Carefully removing his trembling hands, Gon let the final piece rest on its own. His eyes shone. “I-I did it!” He tugged on Hisoka’s arm. “Look! I really did it!”

“Indeed you did. ♣️” Hisoka smiled and clapped to congratulate him on his accomplishment. He hadn’t actually expected Gon to be able to do it, but then again, Gon was unpredictable. “Well done. ♦️”

Gon’s fists shook with excitement. He was so lost in his mirth that he didn’t notice Hisoka creeping up on him, blowing air into his ear.

“Gah!” Gon instinctively retracted from the ticklish feeling, knocking the card tower down in the process. “No!” he cried at its collapse, reaching a hand out dramatically. Scowling at Hisoka, who had the world’s most obnoxious smile on his face, he asked, “What was that for?!”

“Hmm? No reason. I just wanted to do that. ♠️”

Gon huffed in irritation. “Now it’s destroyed because of you! I spent forever on that!”

“They’re meant to be destroyed. ♠️ You would have knocked it down sooner or later. ♣️”

“Yeah, I know, but…” Gon sulked. “I wanted to look at it more.”

Hisoka hummed as he thought about it. “We can build another one if you’d like. ♦️”

Gon perked up. “We?”

Picking up one of the fallen cards and checking which one it was, he said, “Yes, together.” Four of hearts. Hisoka set the card down on the table, which acted as the first piece for their next tower. “And it shall be grander than the previous one. ♣️”

“Really?” Gon eyed him with a bit of hope.

A small, genuine smile slipped through Hisoka’s lips. He lightly tapped Gon's nose with a finger. “I wouldn’t lie to you. ♥️”

Then Gon beamed, and helped Hisoka pick up the remaining cards.


End file.
